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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23165029">The Angel of Willowbrooke</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction'>PastPresentFiction</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:47:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23165029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Negan did have a child? Just a baby that he didn't know existed because he let her mother walk away from The Sanctuary when he became everything she couldn't stand to see. When Rick and his group come recruiting for allies in his war against Negan, will her mother's people side with these strangers, or will they stand down and allow daddy's rampage to continue?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I own nothing.  Not The Walking Dead, not the storyline, but I do own my own characters.  Thanks for reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jessa looked around her house and yawned. She’d only just returned from a supply run, and after stopping to confer with the next group set to leave, marking the map to show areas she’d found tapped out, she came inside to consider resting. Then she thought of the fact that she hadn’t seen Angel in over two days and her arms ached from the emptiness.</p><p>She picked up her walkie to send for her, but was interrupted by Andrew. He was on gate duty. “J?” She answered that she heard him. “Got a large group here, wanna talk to you. Say they’re from Alexandria?”</p><p>Ah. Jessa was used to that, new communities coming across theirs during their own runs, or her coming across theirs. She tended to steer clear of other compounds. The others inevitably showed up here though. It’s how their entire population had grown, herself included. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Best not think about the past right now.</p><p>“A? Have Margie bring them to me, you know how things are run here.” Code for: Let them keep their weapons, but EVERYONE be on alert. Eyes on the newcomers. Jessa wasn’t stupid. She knew people could be more dangerous than walkers. “How many?” She saw the sun dipping below the horizon, getting late for visits. “A? You gonna give me a head count? Gotta make sure I have enough lemonade.”</p><p>“Sorry, J. Was counting.” Andrew chuckled. “Looks like you’re having eight over for drinks.”</p><p>She considered the number and the available shelter. “Have Sandra make sure 12 is stocked and ready? And do it by foot, she never has the damn walkie on.” Then she sighed. “Bring them on over, Margie.” She knew her step-sister was listening. She was as on top of things as Jessa was.</p><p>Jessa sighed again. Fuck, she thought, don’t let these Alexandrian’s bring trouble. They’d found the best community she’d ever seen in this mess of an apocalypse. An actual brick wall and a fucking gate already in place, not to mention the solar panal system and water filtration system. When she and Margie first came across it, she’d wondered if the whole damn community hadn’t been planned by doomsday preppers. Then she’d found the fields of vegetables and felt confirmation. It was planned by them, but never sold one single fully furnished house. Shit, she felt like she’d died and found nirvana.</p><p>She got the huge dining room table set for her guests, ten glasses, two pitchers of tea and lemonade, and twelve chairs. The knock came as she took the seat at the head of the table.</p><p>“Come in.” She yelled, knowing Margie would hear her.</p><p>Her sister walked in front, and Jessa noticed that none of her guests were looking around in envy or awe. Good, she thought, they clearly had a similar set up. That would hopefully keep everyone sensible. Margie took the seat to her right, and Jessa gestured for the others to follow suit. They all stood, making the situation all the more awkward.</p><p>“Good evening,” she greeted them. Rolling her eyes at them lurking, she huffed. “Please sit. I’m fucking exhausted and you’re all heavily armed. I think you’re all safer than me at this point.”</p><p>A man who looked tortured within his own body, gave a snort. He was the only one who didn’t sit. More content to walk around, and the gun looked uncomfortable in his grip. Jessa was curious, but shrugged it off. He seemed familiar, the haunted look he shot her.</p><p>Instead of asking him anything, she addressed her questions to the man seated opposite her, at the foot of the table. “Are you this group’s spokesperson?” He started to answer, but a dark skinned woman at his side stopped him. She had a katana strapped to her back and sounded fierce.</p><p>“Are you?” She asked, and Jessa grinned.</p><p>“Jessa Angeles,” she answered, nodding. “Duly elected leader of Willowbrooke. Could I offer all of you a drink?”</p><p>Suspicion was clear in their eyes. Jessa fought against rolling her own. Margie, far better at gaging these situations and how to make them less tense, picked up her glass and filled it halfway with lemonade and tea. “Arnold Palmer, anyone?” She asked, taking a long sip.</p><p>Jessa filled her own glass with plain lemonade. She took a sip, and then the fever pitch of a group expecting to be poisoned, lowered a bit. “Now, where were we?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re here,” the man seated opposite her spoke. “To ask you to join us.”</p><p>Jessa’s eyes widened. “Leave our community?” She asked, thinking he must be insane. “Why would we do that?”</p><p>He shook his head. “No, join us to fight Negan.”</p><p>Jessa was happy she’d already set her glass down, because she knew her hands had begun to shake. A name she wanted desperately to forget, even if his face was always near the surface. She felt Margie’s hand take hers on top of the table. It didn’t go unnoticed, nor would her obvious paling at the mention of his name.</p><p>“You know who I’m talking about.” He accused. “He and his Saviors,” he bit the word out. “They must be getting tribute from y’all as well.”</p><p>“They aren’t.” Margie answered, still holding her sister’s hand. “They leave us alone.”</p><p>This shocked the group. Jessa took a deep breath and looked at Margie. She asked her to bring Angel to her, and while her sister wanted to stop her, she gave Margie a comforting squeeze. As her sister left, she looked around the group.</p><p>“You’re a wee bit presumptuous.” Jessa’s gaze landed on the leader. “You come in asking for help against your enemies. I don’t even know who you are.”</p><p>The leader gave a harsh chuckle. “We’re from Alexandria.” He started. “It’s a community almost exactly like yours.” Jessa nodded, she expected as much. “I’m Rick Grimes, I suppose I’m the leader.” He looked almost abashed. “The others-” He gestured and they all gave their names. The warrior with the sword was Michonne. The boy with the eye bandaged his son, Carl. The others she’d work to recall, and the man pacing the walls, Daryl.</p><p>Jessa mentioned that the woman who’d left was her sister, Margie. She left it at that. As they waited, Daryl asked the million dollar question.</p><p>“Who’s Angel?” He demanded, his voice rough, as though he didn’t speak much. “Sounds like a trick.”</p><p>Jessa smiled. “A trick?” She shook her head. “Our community only employs archery as a defense. Arrows are quieter than bullets and easier to find or make. Knives are a second, less popular weapon, as I prefer my people not get that close to walkers.” She watched as this information flowed around them. “If we didn’t welcome you, you’d be dead. Simple and easy. Without coming closer than ten yards.” She smiled again. “We welcome people here because every decision may start with a conversation with me, but it’ll be decided by a full vote of our citizens. We’re a full democracy, and yes, I am the leader, but my vote comes only in the event of a tie. You’ll have the chance to ask our people tomorrow. That’s when our last supply run will be back.”</p><p> </p><p>They heard the front door open and the gurgle of a baby trying to form its first words. Silence fell completely as Margie turned into the dining room with a dark haired, dark eyed baby of about a year old. Jessa’s smile grew as she held open her arms. “There’s Mama’s Angel.” The baby reached for her mama with a gummy grin, and Jessa cuddled her to her chest. Breathing in her sweet baby smell, she looked up over the dark hair sticking up on her baby’s head. “Alexandrians, meet Negan’s daughter, Angelina.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the news settled, Rick asked the most obvious question.  “So he doesn’t attack because his daughter lives here?”  </p><p>Jessa laughed, letting Angel pull at her shirt while Margie ran upstairs to grab one of her toys.  “He doesn’t know Angel exists.  He stays away from this community, from me, because I left him.  He saves face if he pretends I died.”  She laughed again as Angel gurgled up at her trying so desperately to say that elusive first word.  “Mama?”  She tried, watching her baby try to work her mouth in the same way.  “Mama.”  She said again, hoping she’d give it a go.  </p><p>“How?”  Michonne asked.  “How does he not know about her?”</p><p>Jessa grinned at her little one, and glanced back up.  “He never asked the important questions.  Like, for instance, ‘Jessa, why would you want to leave me and my miserable ass now, when I’m destroying the man you thought you loved?’”  She answered with a sigh.  “He let me go, escape him if you want to use the words I’m sure he did, because he knew that he made me sick.  Little did he know, the puke was more because of this little princess.  He did make me ill, just not physically.”  </p><p>“Does he know this is your community?”  Rick asked, glancing between her and the baby, as Margie came in with Angel’s favorite giraffe.  </p><p>Jessa nodded.  “He scouted early on.  Saw me through the gate.”  She gave a harsh laugh.  “Thought he saw a damn ghost.  Luckily I was still early enough in my pregnancy I wasn’t showing.  Turned and ran.  Figure he told the group back at his little cult that I was dead and this compound was a dead end.”  She shrugged.  “Whatever keeps him away, I’ll take it.”</p><p>Rick was nodding.  Daryl spoke next.  “And yer gonna let us ask your people to join us, and let ‘em vote?  What if they choose to fight ‘im?”  </p><p>Jessa shrugged again.  “Then we fight.”  It was that simple, even if they didn’t get it.  “I told you, my people get equal say.  Standing and bouncing Angel in her arms, she let them know that they had housing for the night.  “Sandi should have 12 ready for you all.  Come on, I’ll show you where you guys can stay for the night.”  Walking past them, she led the way out the back door of her house.  Across the backyard, out the side gate and up to the house next door.  “This is 12.  It sleeps about a dozen, even has a crib or two.  All the sofas and chairs fold out in the living and family rooms, upstairs are actual beds.  The fridge is stocked, as are the cabinets.  Help yourselves.”  She turned to go.  “I’ll have someone let you know when the runners get back tomorrow.  They’ll bring you to our meeting room.  Be prepared to state your case.  There might be a bit of debate, my people like to have all the information before making a vote.”  Jessa smiled at Angel in the light from the porches.  “Sleep well, the locks work, and the keys are in the kitchen.  Goodnight.”  </p><p>She walked away from them, unguarded, and unafraid.  Her baby was in her arms, and all was right in her world, even if her stomach was knotted at the thought of Angel’s daddy finding out about her existence.  If there was one thing Negan wanted more than power, it was a baby.  And a baby by Jessa would damn well make his world fucking perfect.  </p><p> </p><p>OVER TWELVE MONTHS BEFORE:</p><p>Jessa heard the screaming and jeering before she walked downstairs.  She’d been resting in their bedroom, napping for what seemed like the umpteenth time this week.  She didn’t know what was making her so damn tired, but between that and her disgust with food in general, she hoped beyond hope she wasn’t dying.  When the noise roused her from the nap, she decided against her fear to go investigate.  </p><p>He was downstairs, in the heat of the boiler room, surrounded by the wild pack of his followers.  In front of him was a man bound to a chair, the fire was high and she watched in horror as the man she loved drew on long black gloves and pulled an old fashioned iron from the flames.  Whatever he said was lost in the jeers from the crowd and screams of the man, as he walked forward and pressed the hot metal to the man’s face.  Jessa felt a scream rip from her lips and darkness took her under.  </p><p> </p><p>PRESENT:</p><p>Jessa gasped awake, hoping she hadn’t screamed out loud.  She’d done it for months after she’d left.  Every time she’d try to sleep, the nightmare she’d seen live and in living color would rush back and Margie would be forced to wake her before the walkers could find them.  She looked over at the small crib pressed close to her bed, and smiled with the knowledge that Angel hadn’t been woken by her mama’s dream.  </p><p>She pushed her hand through the bars of the crib and smoothed the baby’s silky, unruly hair.  Her little girl.  A surprise, most certainly, but a welcome one.  Jessa would walk through hellfire to keep her safe, even if it meant never letting her daddy know that she lived.  She hadn’t lied to the group last night.  Margie used to say her unwavering honesty was a downfall, but she just didn’t see the point to it.  Why lie?  Means you’ve gotta keep track of more stories.  </p><p>Negan hadn’t known that Jessa was pregnant.  If he had, she’d have been kept under lock and key.  She sure as hell wouldn’t be in Willowbrooke, leading a group far different from his own.  She wouldn’t be safe and happy.  She’d be a prisoner.  She’d be one of a dozen or more, from the rumors she’d heard from other visitors, wives.  When she’d been with him, she was the only.  Seeing him with another would have been almost as terrible as seeing the sadist he’d become.  </p><p>She could almost smell the scent of that man’s seared flesh.  Almost feel the bile rising up inside her, even as she’d fainted.  Negan hadn’t rushed to her, she wasn’t even sure he’d heard her scream.  No, her sister had.  Margie hadn’t been in the room, but she had come looking for her when she didn’t find her in their room.  When she found her folded up and unconscious on the landing above the room, seeing the crowd below and understanding what she’d seen, she had carried her back.  </p><p>Jessa never understood how she could have lifted her, not then anyway.  When they’d left, with his knowledge, because again she didn’t lie, she’d seen her power and strength more fully.  Before they’d found Willowbrooke, Margie had adopted two boys.  They’d been orphaned and neither of them knew how’d they’d lasted so long alone.  They were ten and twelve years old, and now they were blood.  Just like she was, started a step sister, became Jessa’s blood.  Every single person in their community had earned that familial bond.  </p><p>That’s why their community flourished.  Everyone did supply runs. Everyone took part in the upkeep and care of their homes and land.  As soon as a child could handle a bow or crossbow with safety, they were taught.  Knives, as she’d told them, came later and was explained as being a literal last resort.  Their people’s lives mattered.  All their lives mattered.  And that’s why they kept going.  Why they stayed loyal and caring.  Why they invited people in.  </p><p>Jessa knew that this was foreign to people nowadays.  Hell, she knew people were dangerous. She  just chose to believe what Negan would have called blind optimism.  She’d rather not think the fucking worst right off the bat.  She was cautious, but she was also fair.  Give them a reason to NOT harm them, then if they tried, they died.  That was the rule.  This new group wasn’t necessarily harmless, but she did hope they’d understand the rules here.  They weren’t listed, but they were pretty damn obvious.  </p><p>She sat up and watched the sun rise.  She’d give them the floor, that was a rule.  They could state their wishes, and her people, her family would definitely have questions.  Then, once the debate, the questions, were over they could vote.  As long as their runners all came back, which they’d been lucky so far, then she wouldn’t have a say at all.  That’s the rule.  She was voted in, multiple times now, and she made this clear from the first.  Her job was to keep the peace in the sense that she kept everyone moving forward.  That’s it.  Moving forward.  </p><p>This world was a mess.  People would keep them going.  Walkers were the least of their problems.  If humanity left them, then what was the point of living anyway?  </p><p>The sun rose, as it had since the time of the big bang.  Sure as the birds twittering, and the dark coming at the end of the day.  And as it crested, and grew blinding in its light, Jessa stood to get ready.  The runners should be back by midday.  They weren’t expected to go longer, and she hoped that it would work out that way.  That’s why she wanted the newcomers to give their best explanation for what they wanted today, quick and simple.  Then they could keep moving forward.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angel woke with happy noises, and the sound made Jessa turn from where she stood at the window looking over her community.  Her baby’s dark hair, so very like her daddy’s, sticking up in spikes as it had since the day she was born.  Angel smiled up at her mama.  She’d recently learned how to pull herself up with the bars of the crib and now she was standing and bouncing as she held on tight.</p><p>“Aren’t you just mama’s smart girl?”  Jessa asked, reaching for her.  The giggle Angel was giving made Jessa’s grin grow.  “Is Mama funny?  Does Mama make the baby laugh?”  She swayed with her little girl in her arms, using the music of Angel’s laugh as the tempo.</p><p>“She’s cute.”  The gruff voice stilled her, but she refused to show her uncertainty.  “Don’t no one lock doors ‘round here?”  </p><p>Kissing Angel’s sweet, soft hair, she turned.  “No reason to.”  Daryl stood in the doorway, looking about as awkward as Jessa was feeling.  She knew what he was seeing.  She’d wore one of the 3X men’s shirts she’d pilfered from a supply run, which reached down to her knees, but Angel was tugging a shoulder down so it hung off kilter.  Her baby was dressed in her footie jammies, and had one of her fists in her mouth chewing as she played with her mama’s shirt, she was really reaching for Jessa’s long loose braid, but missed.  Jessa had no bra, bare legs and shoulder, and was probably blushing, if the fire of her face was any indication.  “Angel, can you say ‘thank you’ to Daryl?  He called you cute.”  Jessa returned to her swaying.  “Or say ‘mama’,” she begged the little girl.  “I really don’t wanna miss your first word, Angel.”  Another giggle from her mini, “guess not.”  </p><p>Daryl chuckled, a sound that wasn’t unpleasant, and Jessa hoped he would do more often.  “Cute, but stubborn.”  She noted that he wasn’t holding the ill suited gun.  He also looked like he hadn’t slept in days. </p><p>Something about this man, who’d theoretically broke into her home, made her trust him.  Maybe it was the way he moved.  The look in his eyes.  “Want to hold her?”  She asked, wanting to see if her baby could win him over.  </p><p>He shrugged and she walked closer to him.  Angel held out her arms, so used to being doted on and loved.  He smiled and her heart lurched.  Damn, she thought, maybe he was dangerous.  He held out his hands and Angel practically leapt into them.  Another chuckle from him and an answering giggle from her.  He held her baby carefully to his chest, running his large and no doubt calloused hand over her spiky hair, either enjoying the silky texture, or trying to smooth it down.</p><p>“If you’re trying to tame her hair, good fucking luck.”  Jessa laughed, and he looked up startled.  “Been like that since her first appearance in this world.”</p><p>His smile returned and her stomach lurched.  “Nah, she’s perfect.  Wild.”  His voice was soft as she watched him bounce her gently in his arms.  </p><p>“You’re pretty good at that.”  She gestured at him and her Angel.  “Got one of your own back in Alexandria?”  </p><p>“Kinda.”  He answered, and her heart plummeted.  Of course he did.  Seemed like all the good ones, or the ones she could find interesting were family men now.  “Rick’s lil girl, Lil Asskicker.” </p><p>Jessa chuckled, feeling lighter now that she knew it was his leader’s daughter.  “That her Christian name?”  She tried to tame her racing heart.  No kids of his own, didn’t mean no woman in his life.  She turned away to make her bed.  She heard his snort at her question.</p><p>“Should be.”  He answered with a laugh and she could swear she heard him kiss Angel’s head.  “Figure any baby born inta this mess is gonna be an asskicker.”  </p><p>Smoothing down the quilt and fluffing the pillows again, she turned to the crib and grabbed Angel’s giraffe.  “Got a point there.”  She smiled sadly and turned back around. “Wishing it isn’t so, doesn’t make it so.”  She muttered and rubbed her own hand over Angel’s hair while Daryl held her.  “I should have asked, did y’all need something?”  Bringing them back to why he’d shown up at her bedroom door.</p><p>A flush of color touched his cheeks, but his gaze stayed on Angel.  He answered, shaking his head.  “Don’t sleep much, thought I’d take a look around.”</p><p>“Inside my house?”  Jessa asked, tilting her head and chuckling.</p><p>“Not like that.”  He muttered as Angel finally got her fist wrapped around her favorite toy, hair, this time his.  “Didn’t know the door would be unlocked, saw ya.”</p><p>“Standing in the window?”  She finished.  “No harm, no foul.”</p><p>“Figured with all the people watchin’ us, you’d be warned before I got here.”  His voice was still quiet, and she realized he didn’t want to upset Angel.  He wasn’t flinching as her tiny fist yanked on his hair either, tough man.</p><p>Jessa raised an eyebrow.  Her guards, her people tended to be invisible when they were keeping an eye on the community.  “Do you see everything?”  She was impressed.</p><p>“Part of who I am.”  He said with a shrug.  “Keeps me and them safe.”  A protector, and what else?  </p><p>“Let’s head downstairs,” Jessa offered.  “Angel is gonna lose interest in your hair once I hand her her breakfast.”  He chuckled again.</p><p>“Don’t mind.”  His voice was gruff, and he planted a kiss on the baby’s head.  “She ain’t as rough as her daddy.”  </p><p>Jessa almost stalled again.  Shit, Negan had hurt this man.  Physically.  Of course, that’s why his eyes looked so familiar.  Hadn’t she seen the same haunted look in all the people he’d “broken” at the Sanctuary.  She swallowed the lump in her throat and walked past him, leading him to the kitchen.  Opening the fridge, she pulled out the homemade baby food she and Margie had made from their harvest and a bottle of milk.  Opening a drawer, she pulled out a spoon.  “You can put her in her chair, if you want?”  He’d sat himself at the small table in front of the picture window overlooking the backyard.  He was still holding Angel who was still fascinated with his hair.</p><p>“She’s alright.”  He said, and Jessa sat Angel’s breakfast down and sat in the nearest chair to him.  She opened the jar and used the spoon to scoop some up.</p><p>“You sure?”  Jessa asked, waiting with the spoon poised to give Angel a mouthful.  “She’s still figuring this out, and it can be a damn mess.”  </p><p>He chuckled and took the spoon from her.  “We’ll be alright, woman.”  And she watched in amazement as Angel took note of the squishy food on the spoon and dutifully opened her mouth.  He gave her a bite, and then used the spoon to swipe the excess from her mouth and offered it again.  A pro.  “See?”  He said, turning his gaze back to Jessa.  “We’re fine.”</p><p>She laughed and nodded.  “Guess you are.  Can I get you some breakfast?”  She stood and pulled eggs from the fridge and a loaf of fresh bread from the pantry.  “We’re still working out the butter churning, but I can do an egg sandwich?”  </p><p>“Butter?”  He asked, looking up from Angel’s open mouth.  “Eggs?  Damn, I didn’t look far enough ‘round.  Y’all got cows and chickens?”  </p><p>“Cows, chickens, roosters, pigs,”  Jessa smiled.  “Also a huge crop of vegetables.  I think this was supposed to be a doomsday prepper housing development.  I swear, they had it all planned to a T.”</p><p>“Roosters?”  He cocked his eyebrow.  “Why didn’t I hear them crow at sunrise?”  </p><p>“We soundproofed the coop.”  Jessa answered, starting breakfast.  “Can’t have the damn walkers come rushing up to the walls every fucking morning can we?”  </p><p>He nodded, having gone back to feeding Angel.  “Used to have horses, cows, pigs, and chickens.”  She smiled at his diligence to making sure Angel was getting more IN her than on her.  “At our other community.”  </p><p>She was frying the eggs and slicing the bread, but stopped at the note of regret in his voice. “Other community?”  She asked, curious.</p><p>He gave another nod, and grinned at Angel.  “That’s right, baby girl, eat it up.  Yeah,” he returned to the conversation he was having with Jessa.  “We had ‘nother spot, got ousted by another asshole.”  </p><p>Jessa sighed.  This world was chaos.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”  She hadn’t mentioned Negan, and wasn’t planning on it.  She knew that people who he broke, or as she studied Daryl, tried to break, didn’t want to dwell on it.  </p><p>“Y’all are pretty open here.”  He said, as Angel lost interest in her food.  He grabbed the bottle to offer her that and smiled when she grabbed it from him.  “Welcomin’ and all.”</p><p>She was putting the two sandwiches on plates and was about to ask if he wanted coffee when a knock came to the backdoor.  “Here,” she sat the plates on the table.  “Go ahead and eat, she’s occupied with her bottle, so you should be able to.”  She walked to the door and saw Rick Grimes standing there.  “Hey,” she said, opening it and inviting him in.  “Looking for Daryl?”  </p><p>Rick looked at the table she was pointing at and chuckled.  “Couldn’t stay away from that lil princess, could ya?”  He shook his head.  “Wanted to make sure he didn’t get himself shot by an archer.”  Rick said, smiling at Jessa.  “Should have known, though, he’s a baby magnet.”  </p><p>“I’ve noticed.”  She answered.  “Want some breakfast?”  She noticed that Daryl’s sandwich was gone.  “Daryl, want another one?”  They both nodded.  “Rick, eat that one, and I’ll make a couple more.  Or hell, go get the others so I won’t have to keep restarting.”  She had a feeling that his people, like hers, would want to keep track of their leader.  </p><p>“Don’t want to be a bother.”  Rick said, holding up his hands.  </p><p>She shook her head.  “You’re not.  Now go!”  She shooed him out the door.  “Go ahead, Daryl and finish that one.  Then you can put Angel in her chair and help me.”  </p><p> </p><p>A FEW HOURS LATER</p><p>The Alexandria group was seated comfortably around Jessa’s living room when Margie walked in.  Her sister didn’t even flinch, this was Jessa always taking in strays.  She found her sister, laughing with the man who’d been so uptight the night before, washing dishes while the man cradled a napping Angel in his arms.  She stopped and took in the sight before her.  Jesus, she thought, that’s what Jessa’s life should look like.  An attentive, if rough man, and her baby.  It was the picture of domesticity, and she wanted it for her little sister so badly.  </p><p>“Hey,” she called out, hating to break up the moment.  “They’re back.”  </p><p>Jessa turned, hands soapy with wash water.  She nodded at Margie and gestured to Daryl and Angel.  “I think I’ve been replaced.”  </p><p>“Nah,” the dark haired man said, rocking Margie’s baby niece gently in his arms.  “No one can replace her mama.”  </p><p>Jessa wiped her hands dry, and focused on Margie’s news.  “Everything go alright?  Everyone safe?”  Margie nodded and bit her lip.  “What?  What happened?”  Laser focus, that’s what her sister was also known for.</p><p>“They’re OK, but,” Margie sighed.  “Apparently the Saviors saw them out, there could have been a bad situation, but,” another sigh.  “Mark killed them.”</p><p>Fuck, Jessa thought.  “All of them?”  She needed to make sure that Negan’s people wouldn’t make their way here, otherwise he’d have no choice, but come in.</p><p>“They think so.”  Margie said, knowing exactly what her sister was worried about, and shooting a look at the baby.  “You know how his people are, Jessa, like cockroaches.  You can only see all of them if you turn on the light at the right moment.”  </p><p>Shit, shit, shit.  “Fine.”  Jessa sighed, gripping the dish towel so tightly that it looked like she was going to tear it apart.  “Did you tell everyone that we’re having a meeting and a vote?”  She asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to make sure.  Margie nodded.  “Good.  Give me thirty minutes to straighten myself up,” she was still in her nightclothes.  “And I’ll bring them over myself.”  </p><p>“Do you want one of the older kids to watch Angel?”  Margie asked, but Jessa shook her head.  </p><p>“No, I want her with me.”  And Margie knew that Jessa was taking the threat of what happened on Mark’s run very seriously.  “Go on, Margie, I’ll be there in a bit.”</p><p>Margie nodded, noticing that Daryl was still gently rocking Angel, but he was looking at her with a fierceness, a protectiveness that made her heart swell.  Maybe, she thought as she turned away, her sister had finally found a good man.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jessa went upstairs to change, after taking Angel from Daryl.  Putting on well worn skinny jeans, a white tank top over a white bra, and covering it with a lightweight button up shirt, she danced around while Angel sat against the pillows and giggled.  Then it was her turn.  Changing her diaper, she put her little girl in a white onesie, a pair of baby jeans, and covered her unruly hair with a mini fisherman’s hat.  She heard a quiet knock on the bedroom door as Angel gurgled in her arms.  </p><p>“Come in,” she called, tickling the baby to make her laugh.  </p><p>“She’s a happy baby.”  Michonne stated, a smile changing the fierce warrior into a real beauty.  </p><p>Jessa’s smile in return was just as beautiful.  “Yes, she is.”  She picked her up and offered her to this warrior queen without hesitation.  “She’s spoiled rotten.  Gets all the love around here.”</p><p>Michonne, like Daryl before her, carefully held Angel to her chest and breathed in the sweet baby smell of her.  “She’s definitely deserving of it.”  She rocked Angel gently.  “Angel is an apt name.”  The baby’s tiny fist found one of Michonne’s dreadlocks and tugged.  “Strong, too.”  She smiled and made faces at the little one.</p><p>“And yet, I’m not sure you came up here just to play with her.”  Jessa said, opening up the floor to whatever the other woman wanted to say.</p><p>Michonne gave Jessa a new look of respect.  Clearly she wasn’t expecting her forthrightness.  “You’re correct, although she is very precious.”  She handed Angel back to her mama.  “Daryl seems quite taken with you.”  </p><p>That wasn’t the topic Jessa was expecting.  Perhaps, this lovely, fierce woman came to warn her away.  No doubt he had a woman, or man, behind waiting in Alexandria.  “According to Rick, Daryl just loves babies.  Called him a baby magnet.  I”d think that would make him more taken with Angelina than me.”</p><p>Michonne laughed, and Jessa was struck again by the thought that laughter was what was truly missing in this new world.  “Rick can barely see the nose on his own face, most days, anyway.”  Her smile held, fondness and love evident.  “Add to that the fact that Daryl has NEVER shown interest beyond the familial kind to ANYONE, and you’d forgive me if I wouldn’t put much stock in his vision of Daryl.”  She chuckled again.  “He’s a good leader, and he has excellent plans, but relationships?  Especially in this case, don’t take his word on it.”</p><p>Jessa sat down on the foot of her bed and Angel finally found her braid.  She was tugging it back and forth and her mama barely noticed.  “So what exactly do you want to discuss?  About Daryl, I mean?”  </p><p>The other woman sat down beside her, showing a trust that Jessa didn’t take for granted.  “Just this,” she took a deep breath.  “Negan held Daryl captive.  He doesn’t talk about what he went through at the Sanctuary, or what all it took to escape.  He’s never been a talker, but this?  He says NOTHING, not even to Rick.”  Jessa was learning more about the dynamics of this group.  Clearly Daryl and Rick were close, family even if not by blood.  And if she wasn’t reading the signs wrong, Rick and Michonne were an item.  </p><p>Jessa nodded.  “I can make a fairly good guess of what he’s been through.”  She felt sick, like she had on that balcony overlooking the fire and the smell of human flesh burning.  Thinking it, like she had when he’d made the comment earlier was nothing compared to knowing she was right.  Her stomach twisted.  </p><p>“I thought you might,”  Michonne nodded, feeling better now that her assumption was confirmed.  “Daryl is an amazing warrior.  He can hunt and track humans, prey, or walkers, if necessary.”  She sighed and Jessa looked over at her and realized she was worried about him.  “He’s also one of the most sensitive souls I’ve ever met.  The way you explained Willowbrooke to us, last night?”  Jessa nodded again, urging her on.  “That’s what he needs.  More than us, more than vengeance he feels he’s owed.”  She stopped and took another deep breath.  “He’s loyal to the point of insanity, and his own safety.”  She chuckled.  “But he needs peace.  If you’ll have him, that is.”  </p><p>“Matchmaking?”  Jessa asked, not wanting to hope, not about this.</p><p>The beautiful warrior smiled and shook her head.  “No.  Just making sure Rick’s blindness isn’t contagious.  Because what I see in Daryl is reflected in you.”  Jessa smiled back, thinking that regardless of today’s vote, these people were changing her world.  “You do, don’t you? Have an interest in him?”</p><p>“Let’s not put the cart before the horse.”  Jessa warned, fear blooming in her chest.  “I’m fairly certain that Daryl told you about my runners and the contact made with Negan’s men.”  Interesting way to put killing people. Michonne nodded.  “This is going to help your side of the coming debate, because my people will ask A LOT of questions.  I’m almost certain the vote will go down on your side.  And I want you to make sure your people understand, only those who vote FOR your cause will fight.  I won’t.  I can’t.”  She sounded tortured, but she had to let them know the rules.  “My people know about Negan, ALL about him.”  Michonne had tilted her head toward Angel.  “EVERYTHING.”  She confirmed.  “Including the fact that there’s a very good chance that they didn’t manage to kill all of them. My sister calls them cockroaches, a pretty good description.”  They shared a dark chuckle. </p><p>“Then let’s head to this meeting and see what happens.”  Michonne offered, standing.</p><p> </p><p>If the rest of Willowbrooke wasn’t all that impressive to the newcomers, the meeting hall managed to leave them speechless when they walked up to it accompanied by Jessa and Angel.  “I think this was the only building they didn’t finish before the world went to hell.”  She offered, opening one of the double doors and leading the way inside.  “Pretty sure it was supposed to be a clubhouse, but-”  The entire building was one huge echoing room.  “We added the chairs and that table up front.  But what you see is what you get.”  </p><p>“How many residents live in Willowbrooke?”  Rick asked as the sea of bodies parted with Angel’s squeal of glee. </p><p>“Last count?”  Jessa tried to think.  “50 adults, including me, thirteen children, and one baby.”  </p><p>Someone in his group whistled and Angel gave a loud slobbery giggle.  “Morning, wait,”  Jessa glanced back at the window of the double door.  “Afternoon,” she corrected, walking to what had been deemed the front of the room, which held the same kind of chair as the rest, but accompanied the small table.  “I’m sure y’all have heard about our visitors.  They have a request, y’all know how this works.  Andrew?”  She searched the room until she saw his hand.  “Everyone accounted for?”  He nodded.  “Who’s on the gate?”</p><p>Margie’s voice answered.  “My boys.”  Jessa nodded.</p><p>“Who’s got the perimeter?”  Jessa asked, and a redheaded man raised his hand.  “Abi and Matt gonna be ok with that?”  Another nod.  “OK. let’s get started.”  She sat and everyone from her group followed suit.  Rick’s group remained standing.  “Rick Grimes of Alexandria, state your request, please.”</p><p>TWO HOURS LATER</p><p>“Are we ready for a vote?”  Jessa asked, after what appeared to be the last question was answered.  A chorus of “aye” echoed around her.  “OK.  All in favor of granting the Alexandrians aid?”  </p><p>A show of hands flew up, clearly the majority, but a count to confirm and show who would be helping had to be made.  “Andrew?”  </p><p>“Forty for, Jessa.”  She nodded.  </p><p>“All against?”  A much smaller group of hands.</p><p>“Nine, Jessa.”  Andrew called.  Another nod.</p><p>“Abstained?”  She called, making sure no one was trying to wiggle out.  No hands came up.  “Then, Rick, you have your answer.  The nine who voted no, along with the children and myself, will stay behind and guard our home.  The forty for will learn what your plan is, it will be kept secret from EVERYONE else.  Don’t tell the children you care for, don’t tell ME, don’t tell anyone of the left behind, including Angel.  This is an ORDER.  Fighting Negan is one of the most dangerous risks a person can take, Rick did not overstate or understate that fact.  I will NOT have anyone at more risk than necessary.  Agreed?”  Another chorus of “aye” echoed.  “Good.”  She kissed Angel’s head.  “I feel it pertinent to remind EVERYONE,” she looked at the newcomers and included them.  “That HE must NOT know about Angelina.  If he finds out, I promise you he will burn the fucking world to the ground to get her.”  Sober faces met hers.  “Thank you, all of you.”  Her eyes rested on Daryl’s.  </p><p>“FAMILY!” Her people shouted.</p><p>“Family.”  She agreed, rocking a fussy Angel.  “Meeting adjourned.  Rick?”  </p><p>He nodded, taking over.  “If y’all voted to help us, please stay.”</p><p>“Andrew?” Jessa asked.  “Please assure the forty are accounted for?”  A nod from Andrew, who had voted for answered her request.  “Nays?  Time to leave.”  She walked through the crowd to exit before the rest.  A muttering of excuses came behind her. She waved them off.  “It’s fine, our home needs defending too.”  </p><p>Margie caught up with her as she neared her house.  “I’m glad you’re sitting this one out, Jess.”</p><p>“We,” Jessa nodded between the two of them.”  Have to.  If they see us, then he’ll go fucking ballistic.”  </p><p>“Yeah,” Margie agreed.  “Never stopped you from standing up to him before.”</p><p>“Well, didn’t have something so precious to defend.  And, he never wanted to save face by pretending I was dead before either.”  She answered, entering the house and heading straight for the kitchen.  “She’s hungry.”</p><p>“And tired.  And overwhelmed.”  Her sister listed.  “Angel will bounce happily back when her tummy is full and she has a nap.”  She laughed, taking her niece from Jessa.  “Don’t you wish we had it that easy?”  </p><p>Grabbing another jar of baby food and a bottle, she grinned back.  “No shit.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angel was in her playpen in the living room, her belly full, her butt dry and clean, and she’d finally given in to her body’s urge for a nap.  Jessa had taken the baby monitor with her to the kitchen, while she waited for Margie to return from 12 with the extra supplies.  Since Rick’s group preferred company for meals, she decided that she’d make them all a large dinner since they’d be forced to spend another night inside Willowbrooke.</p><p>Her sister came back staggering under three overflowing bags of supplies.  “Remind me to have a chat with Sandi about how to stock the guest lodgings.”  She groaned.  “Between her inability to keep her walkie on and her overindulgence with supplies, she’s fast becoming a huge pain in the ass.”</p><p>Jessa smiled in agreement.  “We’ll have to find her a more suitable job.”  She sighed as she considered and helped Margie put things away. “Let’s think this over.  Sandi’s failed at:  gate duty, perimeter duty, she can’t make a supply run without a catastrophe acuring, can’t hit a target with a bow, or up close with a knife.”  She stopped and Margie took over.</p><p>“Sucks at inventory, can’t prep the guest lodging worth a damn,” she rattled off.  “Damn what’s left for her to try?”</p><p>Putting the last of the bags’ contents away, Jessa groaned.  “Crops or animal care.”  She said, folding the reusable bags and sighed.</p><p>Margie blanched.  “We’d starve.  She’d kill everything.” </p><p>That did it.  The sisters started laughing and it was still going on when the front door opened and Daryl raced through to the kitchen at the noise.  He nearly tripped sliding into view and the overly concerned look, coupled with the gun that looked so uncomfortable in his grip ruined them.  The concern grew as the others filed in behind him.  </p><p>“What the hell, woman?”  Daryl growled, as Jessa’s eyes streamed with tears.  “Thought someone was killin’ ya back here.”  </p><p>Jessa fought for composure, but his glare and seriousness was too damn much.  She finally managed to hiccup herself quiet.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare y’all.”  She choked out as Margie clutched her side and calmed.</p><p>Rick looked between the sisters and Daryl.  “I wasn’t scared.”  He offered, bewildered by his best friend’s reaction.  Michonne coughed to hide her own laugh.  The rest muttered an agreement with him.  </p><p>Daryl was still irritated.  “Then,” Jessa replied with more sobriety, and walked up to the glowering man.  “I’m sorry, I scared YOU, Daryl.”  She smiled apologetically.  His eyes were locked on hers and she didn’t notice when the others left the room until Margie patted her arm and said she’d check on Angel.  Jessa reached her hand up to brush his hair away from his face.  “Really.  I’m sorry.”  </p><p>He stood completely still as she touched his hair.  Her smile was sweet and they could both feel the heat of the other's body.  “It’s alright.”  His voice was barely louder than a whisper.  “Just startled me is all.”  </p><p>Jessa nodded.  “Do you wanna join the others in the living room while Margie helps me make dinner?”  He shook his head.  “Angel’s probably awake or about to wake up.”  She tempted and he smirked and shook his head again.  </p><p>“Ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, Jessa.”  Her heart nearly stopped when he finally said her name.  “I can help.”  Her eyebrow raised.  “What?  Been feeding myself for damn near my entire life.”  She grinned.  “Plus, I helped ya this mornin’.”  </p><p>“Yes, you did.”  She agreed.  “How much do you know about making pasta from scratch?”  </p><p> </p><p>AN HOUR LATER</p><p>The Alexandrians weren’t bad people, Margie was pleased to confirm.  They were just trying to get by, when their paths had the misfortune of colliding with Negan’s.  She could commiserate with that.  After all, just look at Jessa and her precious Angel.</p><p>“Something smells damn good.”  Rick said, the scent of dinner baking finally reaching their noses.</p><p>Margie chuckled as her boys came through the front door.  “I swear, you two can smell her cookin’ from the gate.”  She introduced Mark and Kevin to the group.  Michonne and Carl were on the floor keeping Angel occupied with her toys and the boys rushed to join in.  They adored their cousin.</p><p>“Jessa’s making lasagna, isn’t she, Ma?”  Kevin, her ten year old asked with a grin.  She nodded.  “Y’all are in for a treat.  She makes everything from scratch.”  He smiled knowingly.</p><p>“Everything?”  The young dark haired girl named Rosita asked.  </p><p>Mark heard and answered.  “EVERYTHING.  Well except butter.”  He frowned.  “That seems to stump her and Ma.”</p><p>Margie laughed.  “My boys are easily impressed.”  She reconsidered, while smiling at them fondly.  “Jessa’s one of those insatiably curious types.  Always reading, learning, storing it away for some kind of use later.”  Her smile grew.  “She graduated first of her class in nursing school.”</p><p>“Jessa’s a nurse?”  Carl asked, looking fascinated about this new leader.</p><p>Margie confirmed it and added, “she was working toward her nurse practitioner license, while working full-time at the NICU before the world went wonky.”  She thought about it.  “When we got here, she scoured every damn building until she found ALL the manuals, books, and everything written on how to keep this place thriving.”  </p><p>“That’s how she learned to make cheese, cure meats, and process wheat to make flour.”  Kevin perked up.  “Everything, but butter.”  He pouted.</p><p>Jessa chuckled as she and Daryl arrived at the end of this praising of her talents.  “Thought I heard you bemoaning my butter making failures.”  She smiled down at her youngest nephew.  “Maybe tomorrow, if you milk the cows, you can help me perfect it?”  She offered.</p><p>Kevin jumped up and nearly tackled her around the middle.  “Really?” He asked, looking up with bright eyes.  “You aren’t going out on another run?”</p><p>She brushed his light blonde hair out of his face.  “You need a haircut.  And no, I’m not going on a run for a while.”  She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.  “So, milk the cows, help me perfect butter, and then a haircut.  Deal?”  He nodded.  “Ok, go play.”  She looked at Mark.  “Everything OK while y’all were on gate duty?”  </p><p>“Yeah,” the tall redhead answered with an easy grin.  “Quiet outside.  And before you ask,” he chuckled, knowing his aunt well.  “Abi and Matt did really well.  No screaming or fighting.”  </p><p>“That’s wonderful.”  She beamed at them.  “Dinner’s got another,”  she pulled the timer out of her shirt pocket.  “Thirty minutes.  You kids play, while we set the table.”  She was asking the adults to come into the dining room, without letting her nephews in on the vote and the consequences, not yet.</p><p>Everyone gathered in the dining room, where Daryl had already stacked plates and silverware.  Jessa went to the sideboard and grabbed a stack of linen napkins.  Turning she gave an awkward smile.  “Let’s set the table, then y’all can give me the bare bones version of what to expect.  No details, just rough estimates of when it’s gonna happen, so I can work the schedule for guarding Willowbrooke.”</p><p>They worked quickly, Margie rushing into the kitchen to grab glasses, with Rosita following to help.  Once it was set, they sat down as they had the prior night.  Rick started to speak, but Daryl beat him to it.  “I’m stayin’ here, to get your people ready.  The ones that chose to fight.”  He answered gruffly.  “I’ll make sure ya know when the time grows near.”  </p><p>Rick still looked a little gobsmacked by Daryl’s openness with Jessa.  Usually it took pulling teeth to get him to talk to anyone.  Here, he was just different.  He felt Michonne’s hand on his thigh and turned to see her huge smile.  Well, hell.  “Yeah, Daryl’s one of our best, he’s a pretty good recruiter too.  Him staying will give us a better understanding of your people’s strengths.  I know you said y’all don’t use guns, have they trained at all with them or no?”</p><p>“They’ve trained.  We have some guns.”  Margie answered, while Jessa was sitting there wondering why she didn’t open her own mouth.  “Like Jessa said, bows and crossbows work better with the dead.  They hear a gun fire, they don’t hear an arrow launched.”  </p><p>Jessa smiled as the timer dinged in her pocket.  “Let me go grab dinner, and someone might want to yell for those boys, and bring Angel in, too.”  She rose and so did Daryl.</p><p>“I’ll get ‘em.”  He offered, and went toward the living room as she went to the kitchen.</p><p>Rick looked around the table and was happy to see that most of his people looked as shocked as he felt.  Aside from Jessa’s sister and Michonne anyway.  “What the hell?”  He asked.  </p><p>Michonne laughed out loud and Margie joined her.  “Men.”  She said, running her hand through his hair.  “Think about it for a minute, Rick.”  </p><p>He sat back as he considered.  Daryl?  Daryl Dixon was interested in a woman?  Everyone else shared a knowing look now, and he was still freaking shocked.  “Think the world really has gone batshit.”  He muttered as his best friend came back with Angel in his arms, and two young boys following like puppies.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dinner went smoothly, even if Rick kept shooting weird glances at Jessa and Daryl.  They sat beside one another, her sister on her right, Daryl on her left.  Rick couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  Not the part where the man he considered a brother wouldn’t relinquish his hold on the baby, that was completely Daryl.  The part where he and Jessa were sitting together, laughing about something that he couldn’t hear from his spot at the foot of the table, and chatting together like it was completely normal.  Which it was, for anyone other than Daryl.  The man wasn’t known for being verbose.  </p><p>When dinner was over, Michonne said she was going back to the house they’d been given for lodging.  The others agreed, but Rick offered to help Jessa clean up.  Margie almost objected, but seeing that this new leader was trying to decide whether her sister was a good match for a man who Rick obviously saw as family made her stop.  He needed to get to know Jessa, to know that she was a good woman and leader.  That he could trust her, not just against Negan, but for a potential mate for Daryl.  </p><p>Daryl, hearing that the others were leaving, and that Jessa and Rick would be doing cleanup, offered his own services to keeping Angel company.  She nodded at him, smiling at how natural he was with her baby.  And that’s how, moments later, the house was quiet and Jessa and Rick were in the kitchen surrounded by the after effects of a large family dinner.  </p><p>Jessa ran hot water into the sink and added homemade soap.  “I’ll wash, you dry?”  She asked Rick.  His nod was all the answer she received.  Pulling out a washcloth for her use, and a few towels for him to use, she started.  “I think that you have some questions.”  She said, washing the glasses carefully and putting each into the other side of the sink for them to be rinsed so he could dry them.  </p><p>Rick was just as careful with each piece.  He let out a long breath.  “Daryl seems to like your company.”  It wasn’t a question, but it was gauging nonetheless.  </p><p>Jessa nodded, and a smile ghosted her face.  “The feeling is mutual.”  She assured him.  Daryl looked so damn rough, but there was clearly more to him.  “If you want to know if my intentions are pure,” she laughed.  “I can assure you, they are.  He’s a good man, I can tell.  Plus, Michonne already gave me ‘the talk’.”  This time her smile held.  She continued from the glasses to the silverware.  </p><p>“Your community,” he began, thinking about what they’d seen, and clearly what they hadn’t yet.  “It seems pretty advanced in preparedness, at least for survival.”  He didn’t know how to ask the next question, but she sensed it.</p><p>“You want to know if we do more than survive?  If we’re as badass as you guys?”  She asked, thoroughly washing each fork.  “I can tell you that I wasn’t lying when I told you about our training.  Archery is frowned upon mostly, yet it’s far more effective and it’s easier to maintain than bullets and guns.  We kill when it’s necessary for our survival.  Be it walkers, or humans with ill intent.”  She turned to him fully as he dried.  “We’re not weak, I think you know that, since you went ahead with that vote.”  </p><p>He nodded.  “Yeah, but I need to know for him, too.”  His eyes met hers.  “Daryl would die for those he loves, without a single thought for himself.  I need to know that the person, the community he ends up in, would do the same.”</p><p>Jessa thought about what he said, and realized he didn’t understand Willowbrooke at all.  “After the vote today?”  She started, wanting to make him understand.  “You know when my people shouted ‘family’?”  He tilted his head in agreement.  “That’s not just a chant, Rick, that’s a fact.  Every person in this community WOULD die to keep the rest of us safe.  Not just me and Angel, but EVERYONE.”  She went back to washing the plates this time.  “I know that you think you know Negan, that you comprehend what his people are like, well I think you have shortsighted the difference between us and them.  And by us, I include your people.”  She sighed.  “Have you heard his people say ‘I am Negan’?”  He nodded.  “That’s because Negan has this ability, through torture sure, but also though just BEING that makes those people WANT to do his biding.  He knows who to promote, who to keep downtrodden, and what breaks a person’s will.  While we’re family here, there?  There we were simply HIS.  That’s what Negan is.  They die for him because some part of them truly believes they are all one.”</p><p>Rick’s brow furrowed.  Clearly Daryl hadn’t told him everything, just as Michonne had warned her.  “He mentioned a bit of what he went through, but-”</p><p>“I can’t blame him.”  Jessa said, recalling again the punishment that she’d witnessed.  “Negan is a sadist with narcissistic personality disorder and a fucking God complex that cannot be matched.”  She kept washing.  “You cannot go into this war you’re determined to fight without all the information.  I thought, hearing you today, that you understood.  I don’t think you do.”  Finishing the plates in silence, she started the pots and pans.  </p><p>“You were with him,” he said, thinking of how strange it was that someone like her could be with a man like Negan.  “You had a child with him.   What made you see reason?”</p><p>She laughed.  “See reason?  See the truth you mean.”  She scrubbed at the dish she’d made the lasagna in with more force than necessary.  “I was with Negan because we met at the hospital.  He was visiting someone, and I was leaving my shift.  Charming, that’s how he was that day.”  She could almost smile at the memory, almost.  “A few weeks later, I was coming off my shift and the world imploded.  He found me, and I found Margie, and we traveled together, and I was already halfway in love with him by the time we found the Sanctuary.  He chose to take over, I sat back and watched.  We all wanted safety, security.”  She snorted at the very idea of it then.  “Early in my pregnancy, when I still didn’t know, I was sick in bed.  I thought I was dying.”  Another snort.  “I heard a ruckus downstairs and thought I’d check it out.  I saw him burn a man’s flesh from his face.  All because, later when I confronted him about it, he told me that the man had the audacity to take more than he’d earned-of food.”  She glared into the water, washing the last pan.  “Margie had found me, because I’d fainted when I watched it happen.  I screamed and he didn’t even notice me, not during one of his bullshit shows of force.  She took me back to our room, mine and his, because this was prior to the harem I’ve heard about.  And after his non-explanation of his reasons, we planned our leave.   He didn’t fight me, he didn’t fight for me.  He let me go, because I think he knew keeping me there would be a fight.  A real one.  One he may not win.”</p><p>“You loved him?”  Rick’s voice was quiet, trying to understand.</p><p>“Yeah, I did.”  Jessa’s eyes squinted against her own pain of stupidity.  “I once read this article in some magazine.  It mentioned that women usually find the alpha males attractive, read assholes, because in the end it’s survival of the fittest.  That we find the overly testosterone males more attractive because we want our babies to be strong and survive.  It’s weird, isn’t it?  That we pick the very men that are entirely wrong, just so we have stronger generations.”  She removed the plug from the sink so the dirty water could go down.  “I’ll put the dishes away, Rick, thanks for your help.”</p><p>“We’re not finished chatting are we?”  He asked, clearly more fascinated by Jessa than even before.  “You loved him, but you also got away.”  Rick’s voice held so much interest that she chuckled.  </p><p>Picking up the stack of plates, she moved to the cabinet they belonged in and put them away.  Then she moved to the glasses, but Rick stopped her.  “Sure, we can keep the chatter going.  Hand me those a few at a time and we’ll work while we talk.”  As he gave her glasses and she put them away in another cabinet she continued.  “Yes, I got away.  I got Margie away.  We didn’t escape, not really.  I just told him I was finished.  He threatened that I’d die without him and his protection, but I threw up on his boots.”  Jessa laughed hard at the memory of his face.  “I think he thought I was dead already.  By that point, I couldn’t keep much down, Angel really took me through the ringer.  I think he feared having to put me down.  Looking into my face and beating my brain to sludge was repulsive to him.  When he stumbled upon Willowbrooke and saw me behind the fence, I think he realized how durable I really was.  Like I told you, he looked like he saw a ghost, because by then?  That’s what I’d become.”  </p><p>Rick nodded as they moved to the silverware.  She opened the drawer and stood back.  “And he didn’t know about the baby?  You’re sure about that?”  He asked, as he put each utensil in the proper place.  </p><p>“Absolutely certain.”  She said, taking the pots and pans and putting each away.  “Trust me, Rick, the only thing Negan wants more than his little kingdom, is a baby.  And a baby by me?  Well, that would just be icing on the cake, wouldn’t it?”   Jessa leaned against the counter now that everything was washed.  “You need to get that he’s dangerous, but the way his people bow and scrape to him?  That’s the real danger.  We would fight and die for the people we love.  They will die for him, even though nothing they give is reciprocated.”  She saw that her words were being heard, and she knew he was taking it seriously.  “Daryl knows, even if he doesn’t give all the details.  He won’t take their loyalty to Negan for granted, or underestimate it.  The rest of you need to understand it and take it to heart.  I’ve made my people understand.  They voted with the full information.  Do yours understand what you’re walking into?”  </p><p>Daryl walked in before Rick could answer.  “Hey, think Angel is ready for bed.”  Jessa turned and smiled at him and held out her arms.  “I think I’m staying here if that’s OK?”  He asked, both her and Rick.  </p><p>“It’s fine with me,” Rick answered, feeling certain about how Jessa would answer.  “But it’s up to her.”  He pointed to Jessa.</p><p>She nodded.  “Sure, you can stay.”  She took the sleepy baby from him.  “Seems like keeping 12 empty after your people leave might be smart.  We may end up with others coming.  Or not.  But one person in that big house wastes too much.”  She turned from the two men and started for the stairs.  “I’m going to give this little one a sponge bath and get her into her pajamas.  Rick, I’ll be up to see you all off tomorrow, with some supplies.  Daryl when you’re ready for bed, I’ll show you a room you can use.”</p><p>Once Jessa had left, Rick studied his best friend.  “You think she’s the right woman?”  He asked, wondering if Daryl would talk to him about this.  </p><p>“Right woman for what?”  He answered with a question, challenging Rick to keep going.  </p><p>“For you.”  Rick said, not backing down.  He needed to be sure this was what Daryl really wanted.  “Jessa’s pretty amazing, I’ll admit to that, but are you sure?”  </p><p>Daryl smiled, and Rick realized it was one of the first times he’d seen his friend grin since he escaped Negan.  “She is amazing.”  He nodded.  “She’s a fighter, even if we ain’t seen her fight.  She’s a good leader, just look ‘round.”  He gestured around him.  “She’s keepin’ these people alive and fed, while trainin’ them for danger.  And she’s takin’ care of a baby.”  He shook his head in disbelief at her range of skills.  “But is she right for me?  Hell, Rick, she ain’t gonna look at me like I’m worth shit.  Cause I ain’t worth shit.”</p><p>Rick glared at this last part.  “Damn it, Daryl, and Michonne says I’m blind.”  He rolled his eyes.  “She wants you too.  What do you think we’ve been talking about this whole time?”  Daryl looked at him like he was insane.  “I had to make sure.”  He defended his meddling.  “I had to know.” </p><p>Daryl growled and turned away.  “Maybe she only told ya that ‘cause she was embarrassed by your questions.”  He didn’t want to hope, not about this.  He shook his head.  </p><p> </p><p>“Or, dumbass, she told me the truth, like she has since we got here.”  Rick answered, wanting to force his friend to turn around.  “Jessa told me about Negan, things that I don’t think I was HEARING or acknowledging when I heard and saw it myself.  His people, Daryl, do you think they’d die for him without even considering another option?”  </p><p>Daryl snorted and turned.  “Yeah,” he answered, voice gruff.  “They would.  They’d die and kill and do whatever else he asked of ‘em.  And he wouldn’t lift a finger to help one of ‘em if they were given the same treatment.”  </p><p>“So if Jessa was willing to tell me that about a man she has a child with, you don’t think she’d tell me the truth about how she feels about you?”  Rick asked, raising his eyebrow.  “She likes you.  And I’m glad you decided to stay here.  Because I think the two of you need one another.”  </p><p>“Three.”  Daryl corrected.  “The three of us.”  He was including Angel because of course he would.  “Six if you wanna include Margie and the boys.”  He added, because he knew Jessa’s family meant the world to him.  “65 if you include the community.”  He smiled at his friend.  “So you’d be ok with me relocatin’?”  He needed to know that the others wouldn’t suffer for his chance at happiness.  </p><p>Rick chuckled.  “We all want you to be happy, Daryl.  You deserve a chance, we all do.”  He clapped his friend on the shoulder.  “Now, I’m gonna go back to my room for the night, and I think it’s time you went upstairs to see where you’re sleeping.”  </p><p>“First I’m gonna lock the damn doors.”  Daryl grunted, following Rick to the backdoor.  “She’s gotta learn that the gate and guards only catch so damn much.”  He sighed.  “Jessa’s gonna put up a fight about it, but they mean too much to not be kept safe.”  </p><p>Rick smiled.  “I’m sure you’ll do a good job at that.”  He left and his laughter followed him.  </p><p>Daryl shook his head and went to the front door to secure it.  He was serious.  Locks are on doors for a fuckin’ reason.  Time she took precautions.  After turning off the lights downstairs, he climbed the stairs, wondering which room she’d pick for him.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daryl reached the landing on the second floor of Jessa’s house and heard her having an animated conversation with the baby.  It sounded like she was still trying to get Angel to say her first word.  He quietly chuckled and went to the doorway of her bedroom.  She was sitting on the bed, sleepy baby on her lap, cradling the tiny, unruly haired head and begging for her to say “mama”.  He leaned against the open door and watched her press her case.</p><p>“Come on, Angel, you can say it.”  Jessa was pleading.  “You want to say it, too.  I can see those cute little lips working.  Say ‘mama’.”  Her forehead was crinkled in frustration.  “Please, baby, say ‘mama’.”  </p><p>Angel, tired, but enjoying time with her mama, was giving gurling giggles.  Jessa huffed out a little sigh.  “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”  She kissed the baby’s forehead and turned to step out of the bed.  “Like the show?”  She asked, as she rose from the bed to tuck Angel into her crib.  </p><p>Daryl realized that he wasn’t the only one who saw pretty much everything.  He chuckled and walked over to look down at the baby, standing close to Jessa.  “It ain’t bad.”  He smiled at Angel lifting her tiny hand up to try to touch the two of them.  He lowered his hand to let her grasp his finger in her fist.  “One I could get used to seein’.” </p><p>Jessa smiled, watching Angel grip Daryl’s hand as she started drifting off.  She loved being touched, held, and loved.  Her baby gave such hope and got so much more in return.  Turning to face the man who her baby literally held in her hand, she smiled at how relaxed he looked.  Unlike the pacing hunter she’d first met only the night before.  She’d never been one for thinking ahead, not when she found a man she was attracted to.  Clearly, she thought, looking down at her baby and considering the paternity that created her.  Yet, with Daryl, she felt safe.  Not the security she’d felt with Negan, and his overbearing ways, but just safe.  Calm.  An odd feeling given the current horrifying world.  </p><p>“You have a few options for sleeping arrangements.”  Jessa offered, keeping her voice low, since Angel had nodded off and was making the sucking motion with her mouth that signified she was almost, but not completely down for the night.  “There are four other bedrooms in the house.  One downstairs, and three guest rooms up here.  Or-”  she swallowed, thinking she had to give him the choice, there was no way she would rush him into something he wasn’t ready for.  “You can stay in here, with us?”  </p><p>She saw Daryl glance away from the baby, to her, to the bed.  Licking her bottom lip and coming to terms with withdrawing the offer, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when he answered.  “Here is fine.”  They shyly smiled at one another.  </p><p>“Let me show you how to disengage Angel without waking her up.”  Jessa whispered.  She grabbed the stuffed giraffe and carefully opened her little one’s hand, quickly replacing Daryl’s finger with the neck of the stuffed animal.  She felt his chuckle as he lowered his head to give a sweet kiss to the sleeping little girl’s head.  “There’s a bathroom through those doors,” she gestured to double doors behind the baby’s crib.  “I sat out some extra toiletries, toothbrush, soap, and things.  If you hadn’t wanted to stay in here, I would have given them to you for the other-”</p><p>Daryl stopped her with a simple kiss on her lips.  Just a brush, cutting off her rambling.  “You’re a talker, but ya seem a bit nervous, Jessa.”  She’d closed her eyes when his lips touched hers.  Silent now, he had a moment to just look at her.  So tiny, yet so powerful.  Her hair, braided as it had been since he first saw her, hung nearly to her waist.  And while her eyes were closed now, he knew when she opened them, they’d be the lightest green that he’d ever seen.  She was curvy, he knew from the jeans and tank she’d worn to the vote, but forever burned into his mind was how she looked this morning.  That huge t-shirt, hanging off her shoulder, covering her to her upper thighs, as she danced around with her baby.  </p><p>Jessa opened her eyes to Daryl’s blue gaze.  His hair was long and a bit ragged, but his face, the face that she thought looked so familiar, was perfect.  She thought of the museums she’d dragged Margie to when they were teenagers, the sculptures of men’s faces couldn’t hold a candle to the man standing in front of her.  Flaws, what flaws, she wondered, thinking every mark on his face told a story.  She knew he was drinking the view of her in as she did to him, and she revelled in it.  Broad shouldered, and rough, he was all that was right in this world.  A survivor, like her, like her baby, and her community.  </p><p>“Sorry,” she whispered, still staring up at him.  “I babble when I’m tense.”  </p><p>Daryl’s arms came down to wrap around her back.  “Now why would you be tense?”  He asked, not trying to go further, just holding her.  </p><p>She chuckled, realizing they were keeping their voices down to make sure Angel stayed asleep.  “It’s been a long time since I offered my bed to a man, Daryl.  A very long time.”  She stared up at him, taking in his face and how he was looking at her like she was certain she was looking at him.  “I should let you get ready for bed.”  </p><p>“You, too.”  He replied, brushing his lips lightly against hers as he pulled away.  “I’ll be right back, Jessa.”  </p><p>After Daryl closed the door to the bathroom, Jessa grabbed another sleep shirt from her drawer.  Black and a size 3X men’s again, she considered unbraiding her hair, but reconsidered at the memory of waking up feeling like she was smothering under it.  Her clothes from the day were tossed into a basket in the closet and she realized she hadn’t given him anything to sleep in.  Not that she had anything, she was about to pick up the walkie and ask for someone to bring her something when the bathroom door opened, spilling light into the room.  She turned around and realized he’d stripped to his underwear.  Jesus, she felt hot, and her mouth had gone completely dry.  <br/>“Do ya need to do anything in here?”  He asked.  Jessa shook her head, she’d brushed her teeth after giving Angel her bath.  He flicked off the light and the room was illuminated by the side table lamp.  </p><p>Jessa crawled across the bed, always preferring to sleep nearest to Angel’s crib and felt the bed dip behind her as he lay down beside her.  Before she could articulate that he didn’t have to spoon her, she was wrapped in his arms.  She felt his head above hers on the pillow and how perfectly his body was pressed against her back.  His arm over the top of her body, his hand clutching her hip, she found her own reaching for it and linking their fingers.  He sighed, and then they fell asleep.  Protected, and comforted by one another, she had to wonder as she drifted off, when the last time he’d slept was.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jessa woke to bright sunlight and the sound of a gruff voice whispering beside her.  Struggling to find the face that belonged to the voice through the blinding light, she rolled over and smiled at the sight that greeted her.  Daryl was sitting back against the headboard, Angel in his lap as he made her giraffe dance for her.  The baby giggled and smiled through the slobber of chewing on her own hand.  </p><p>“Think your mama’s awake, darlin’,” he said, louder now that Jessa was awake and watching.  “She woke before ya,” he offered, bouncing the happy baby in his arms as Jessa sat up and scooted back to sit beside him against the headboard.  “Figured I’d keep her company until ya woke up.”  </p><p>Jessa smiled and kissed him when he looked over at her.  Their lips were light against each other, but the sweet promise behind that simple touch was enough, for now.  Angel was cooing while she gummed her fist and Jessa laughed, leaning over and kissing her soft cheek.  “Did you thank Daryl, baby girl?”  She asked, reaching out and laughing harder as the baby tried to push herself out of Daryl’s hands into her mama’s.  Daryl placed her carefully onto Jessa’s lap and grinned.  “Well, I’ll thank him for you, Angel.”  She turned her face and let Daryl kiss her again, this time longer and a bit more intimate, his tongue touching hers as their lips parted.  Nipping at his bottom lip, she reluctantly pulled away when Angel achieved her goal of  getting her mama’s braid in her tiny fist.  They shared a chuckle at the little one’s tenacity.  </p><p>“We’d better get up and get ready,” Jessa sighed, thinking that sitting in bed all day with these two sounded like heaven.  “I need to arrange supplies for your people, and jot down some of the instructions Rosita wanted for some of the things we make here.”  </p><p>Daryl rose first, taking Angel back from her.  “I’ll keep the baby company while ya get ready.  I can dress her if you give me what ya want her in,” he offered, making faces at Angel while Jessa got out of bed.  </p><p>She pulled an outfit out of one of the drawers for the baby, and a cloth diaper.  “There are homemade wipes over there,” she said, pointing to the changing table.  “I’ll be right back.”  She grabbed her own clothes and headed into the bathroom.  Quickly showering, shaving her unwanted hair, and then brushing her teeth and brushing her hair loose so it would dry, she was out in less than thirty minutes.  </p><p>Angel was dressed and Daryl’s back was to her.  She gasped at the scarred welts lining his back.  He turned and she saw him blush.  Rushing to him, she turned him back so she could see his back up close.  Her fingers gently ran down each horrible scar, and she followed each tracing with a kiss, wondering who could have hurt him so terribly.  She leaned into his back, wrapping her arms around him from behind and leaning her head against his back.  “I’m sorry.”  She whispered, feeling the warmth of him, and the tension that her gasp had caused relaxing from him.  “I’m sorry that someone hurt you.  I’m sorry that I wasn’t there.  I’m sorry, Daryl.”  </p><p>He turned in her embrace, still holding Angel in his arms, and held both of them together.  “‘S ok, Jessa.”  She felt him kiss the top of her head.  Looking up she smiled seeing him include Angel in their embrace.  “Made my peace with it awhile ago.”  He smiled down at her, and moved one hand to cup her cheek.  “I didn’t want ya to see it like that, but I’m glad ya have.”  </p><p> </p><p>Once he’d showered and dressed, Jessa cursing herself for not offering to wash his clothes the night before, they met in the kitchen for breakfast.  She’d barely sat him up with Angel’s baby food and bottle when they heard a knock on the backdoor.  They shared a look and laughed.  </p><p>Jessa opened the door to the Alexandrians.  “I haven’t started breakfast yet, but come on in.”  They trooped in and she wondered how they would be once they left.  Would they miss Daryl so terribly that they’d regret leaving him and come back?  She chuckled at the thought of every morning like this.  </p><p> </p><p>“Actually,” Rick said, looking down almost shyly.  “We were hoping, if you don’t mind, letting us fix you breakfast today?”  </p><p>Jessa grinned.  “Absolutely.”  She showed them where they could find everything that Rick hadn’t helped her put away the night before, and sat down with Daryl at the small kitchen table to help with feeding Angel.  She knew they had a rapt audience, but she didn’t care, the offer was nice and she wanted to enjoy the downtime with two of her favorite people.  </p><p> </p><p>A few hours later, after a really good breakfast, Jessa, Daryl, Margie, and the rest of the community saw their visitors off.  They had supplies, they had instructions for the homemade things that Jessa learned to make, and they had hope.  Once they faded into the distance, Jessa asked Daryl if he’d figured out a schedule for the forty people that would fight with his group.  </p><p>“Yeah,” he nodded and went over it with Jessa and Margie.  They’d all reconvened at her house in the living room while Angel played on her mat on the floor.  “I figured you’d want to know since you’ll have to work out a schedule with the ones left behind for guard duty and whatnot.”  </p><p>Margie nodded, and offered her own advice, and soon they were hammering out how to make it all work.  “The only issue is-”  She looked at her sister and Jessa groaned. </p><p>“Sandi,” they nodded at one another while Daryl looked confused.  “Sandi is our least useful citizen,” Jessa answered, leaning back against the couch cushions.  “She voted?”  She looked at Margie.</p><p>“Nay,” Margie nodded, confirming her sister’s assumption.  “So we’ll have to find SOMETHING for her to do.”  She rolled her eyes and pressed herself back in a mimic of her sister’s placement on the sofa.  </p><p>Jessa groaned.  “Fuck.”  She rolled her eyes up to stare at the ceiling.  “She’s not good at anything, and that pains me to say.”  </p><p>Daryl took her hand, linking their fingers.  “Not sure who you’re talkin’ bout, but if ya point her out I may be able to think of somethin’.”  </p><p>The sisters shared a look, and then confusion took over their features.  “You should have noticed her during the meeting.”  Jessa said, trying to recall where Sandi had been seated during the vote.  She had to have been there, the tally was correct.  “She’s kind of hard to miss, for any man.”  </p><p>Margie chuckled.  “Yeah, if we were running a brothel instead of a community, we’d totally know where to put her.”  She was remembering a few of the instances of strife that Sandi’s arrival and usual behavior caused among the couples and families living in Willowbrooke.  </p><p>Daryl watched Jessa’s face, she grimaced at whatever Margie was alluding to.  “I worried, the entire first month, that I was going to have to keep a guard on her 24/7.”  She groaned and sat up, still holding Daryl’s hand.  “If she’s staying behind, then we don’t have 9 adults, we have 8.”  Sighing, she considered how she’d rework the schedule in her head.  “Which means one less efficient guard.”  </p><p>“Why do ya keep her?”  His voice was gruff, but she could hear his worry.  “She ain’t adding nothin’ but another mouth to feed, then she’s a burden.”  </p><p>Jessa turned her head to meet his eyes, but it was her sister who answered.  “Jessa’s a softie, she was always bringing home strays as a kid.  Now she does it with people.”  </p><p>“People should have a safe place, Daryl.” Jessa whispered, thinking of how difficult their world was with the dead walking and people crueler by the day.  “Even if they aren’t built for this world.”  </p><p>Daryl nodded, but he looked concerned.  “How long has this woman been here?”</p><p>Jessa looked at Margie, wanting her to jog her memory.  Squinting at one another, Margie finally remembered.  “About six months, Angel was still so tiny.”  </p><p>Nodding, he considered what Jessa had told them about Negan finding the community once.  He wondered if the twist in his gut, his intuition was right.  “And ya know nothin’ about her time before this?”  <br/>Jessa looked at him, wondering what he was getting at, but realized he was right.  Sandi hadn’t offered much about her time prior to Willowbrooke, just that it had been so hard on her to survive on her own.  And yet, how had she?  She wasn’t really equipped for keeping herself safe, she couldn’t even cook her own food without making a disaster.  “What are you thinking?”  Margie asked, watching as her sister was working it out in her mind.  </p><p>“Jessa told us that Negan found y’all once,” his thumb was absently stroking Jessa’s hand.  “He could’ve put a viper in your nest.”  Negan’s wives, Daryl recalled, weren’t really capable of taking care of themselves, not counting Sherri.  They were ornamental, pretty to look at, but not fighters.  </p><p>He watched her shake her head, scared he was right, but also scared that she’d been too naive again.  “No, he couldn’t have.”  She looked up and met his eyes, then her sister’s.  “We’d know, wouldn’t we?”  Margie’s face told her they wouldn’t.  That they’d once again, possibly, underestimated Negan.</p>
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